In the Shadows of Hellsing
folder
Hellsing › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
3,970
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Hellsing › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
3,970
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Hellsing, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Distant Memory
Perhaps if you had not given in to your human passion so long ago you would have had a chance.
Kat lay stiffly on her bunk. A glance at the door told her it was still secure; her rifle was jammed in the handles of the sturdy portal. Alvise had kept trying to get in...but she didn\'t want to see him. Not after what had happened. Not after Alucard.
She remembered walking numbly up from the firing range. Somehow, she had managed to grab her soiled breakfast plate and bring it to the dining hall. Pip had tried to make another remark to her, but she dropped her plate on the pile of dishes with a crash. But it wasn\'t the noise that shut him up. It was the blood sticking to the ceramic surface, the blood left on her hands after that encounter with Alucard.
Kat raised a hand in front of her face. Lying under the florescent lights, she could see the faint crimson stains between the whorls of her fingertips. She had washed it all off. The water from the shower had been scalding hot as it poured over her naked skin, fiery and cleansing. It had run over every part of her, scrubbed in frantically in an effort to come clean.
...passion so long ago...
Alvise wasn\'t her first. Not by a long shot. She had lost track of all the meaningless sex, all the uncaring boys she\'d slept with since leaving home. Alvise cared, though. He had come out smiling to the dining hall, given her the most inconspicuous peck on the cheek. She slapped him, screamed inarticulately at him, punched him in the stomach. And she ran. To the showers, to come clean.
The first thing she had done when she got back was bar the door; it didn\'t have a lock. Alvise had pounded at the wood, pleading beseechingly and yelling angrily in equal measure. He wasn\'t getting in. She needed to be alone. She needed time to think.
...long ago...
Kat let her hand fall to the rough blankets. It had been so long ago. It seemed like it. Eight years. She knew exactly. She could remember the date. Her first time. Her first love.
Kat lay stiffly on her bunk. A glance at the door told her it was still secure; her rifle was jammed in the handles of the sturdy portal. Alvise had kept trying to get in...but she didn\'t want to see him. Not after what had happened. Not after Alucard.
She remembered walking numbly up from the firing range. Somehow, she had managed to grab her soiled breakfast plate and bring it to the dining hall. Pip had tried to make another remark to her, but she dropped her plate on the pile of dishes with a crash. But it wasn\'t the noise that shut him up. It was the blood sticking to the ceramic surface, the blood left on her hands after that encounter with Alucard.
Kat raised a hand in front of her face. Lying under the florescent lights, she could see the faint crimson stains between the whorls of her fingertips. She had washed it all off. The water from the shower had been scalding hot as it poured over her naked skin, fiery and cleansing. It had run over every part of her, scrubbed in frantically in an effort to come clean.
...passion so long ago...
Alvise wasn\'t her first. Not by a long shot. She had lost track of all the meaningless sex, all the uncaring boys she\'d slept with since leaving home. Alvise cared, though. He had come out smiling to the dining hall, given her the most inconspicuous peck on the cheek. She slapped him, screamed inarticulately at him, punched him in the stomach. And she ran. To the showers, to come clean.
The first thing she had done when she got back was bar the door; it didn\'t have a lock. Alvise had pounded at the wood, pleading beseechingly and yelling angrily in equal measure. He wasn\'t getting in. She needed to be alone. She needed time to think.
...long ago...
Kat let her hand fall to the rough blankets. It had been so long ago. It seemed like it. Eight years. She knew exactly. She could remember the date. Her first time. Her first love.